Video: Ten Things I Can’t Conceptualize

Let’s face it. As a blind individual, there are just some things I cannot conceptualize. Here are ten of them!

My Treasures, more written posts are on their way. Please continue to bear with me; things are rough right now and I’m barely keeping up as it is.

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Remember, if you have any questions or requests for future posts / podcasts / videos, please feel free to tell me either by using this site’s contact form, by sending me an email at,, by mentioning me on Twitter with the hashtag #TalkAboutItRena or by DM’ing me on Instagram.

If you read many blogs from different blogging platforms on Bloglovin, please feel free to add mine as well!

Until next time, my \Treasures, I bid you a fond adieu.

Ten Random Facts About Blind Parenting

Ten golden stars have been set upon a royal blue background. A large central star dominates, with nine smaller stars angled around it, four in the corners of the image and five nestled between the points of the main star.

Hello there, my Treasures. While I continue to go through my whirlwind, see this post for clarification if you’re confused, I thought I would do a fun little post where I toss out ten random facts about blind parenting. I’ve a more serious one coming soon. But for now, let’s do this.

Fact One: Blind women do have babies with sighted men,

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Is he also blind?”

Facepalm. No. He’s not.

Novel concept, eh? It is true though. Blind people don’t just date blind people and blind parents are not always one half of a blind duo. Most blind people I know date, marry and have children with sighted partners, in fact.

If you wouldn’t automatically assume Irish people only marry other Irish people or Asians only marry other Asians, please don’t assume blind people can or would only marry and build a family with other blind people.

Fact Two: Walking over Legos barefoot hurts just as much for blind parents as it does for sighted parents.

I might even go so far as to pull rank and say it hurts us more. Why? Because we can’t see them all over the floor; you sighties get a 2.5 second visual warning. We blindies prance happily across the floor, expecting to feel floor, but instead end up doing a Godzilla routine over Ouchville and its surrounding farmlands.

Sighties, don’t believe me? If you live in a winter-prone part of the world, next time your child strews their Legos all over the floor mid-winter, ask your spouse if they’d rather blindfold themselves and walk barefoot across that room or spend the next hour shoveling the car out of the driveway.

I’d bet money most would choose the latter without a second thought. And if they don’t, video that walk and send it to me because I want to see it! 😀

Fact 3: You’ll never cherish the words “but you’re beautiful” more than when your six-year-old says them.

Rosie: “Mommy, come watch TV with me!”

Me: (Putting on lip gloss) One sec, baby girl, let me just do this.”

Rosie: “Why?”

Me: “Because I want to be pretty.”

Rosie: (simply) “But you’re beautiful.”

Treasures, I can’t see myself. I don’t know what I look like, and throughout my life, most of the feedback I have received on my appearance has been severely damaging to my self-esteem. To hear these words spoken, so simply and without ulterior motive, from the person I cherish most in this world bypassed all the barriers I’ve thrown up around the topic and struck directly to my heart.

Fact Four: Even when you’re blind, when your child has a nosebleed, you’re going to know it.

My daughter had her first nosebleed at nine months of age. She wasn’t yet walking. Quite frankly, it terrified me. But I knew exactly what it was.

But how?

  1. She began sniffling, and the sound was wet. Not thick, but wet.
  2. When I touched her, I felt the wetness on her face. Warm, thin liquid that grew sticky, then dried fast as it cooled in the air.
  3. I smelled it, and yes, disgusting as this is going to seem to most of you, I touched the tip of my tongue to my finger to confirm. Blood has a unique copper tang to it. That isn’t a myth. Quite frankly, it tastes like it smells. It isn’t pleasant, but I had to use what senses I could to ascertain what was happening to my baby.

Once I knew what was happening, it was a matter of dealing with it. Rosie still has chronic nosebleeds to this day, less so after her recent cauterizations, so I’ve become a pro at doing so. And no, haha, I don’t still taste her blood; It only took once to learn the other signs so I wouldn’t have to go all Dracula on her every time. 😀

Fact Five: Dora the Explorer’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to many blind parents.

When I tell sighted parents I despise Dora the Explorer, the response I generally get is, “I know. It’s such a stupid show, isn’t it?” (Sorry, Dora fans.)

No. I mean, it’s kind of simple, yes, but it’s geared toward toddlers. The show’s simplicity isn’t what bothers me.

It’s the voice of the main character!!!

Not only does Dora have a very high, nasally voice, but she shouts every line written for her. The actress (or actresses) may have been going for precise speech, but she just ends up yelling into the microphone in a very stilted, high-pitched, nasally fashion. Rosie used to love Dora, and thirty seconds in, I wanted to throw the TV off the nearest skyscraper.

I don’t think sighted people notice this as much, because few people mention it. Perhaps they’re more interested / judgmental of the graphics or the storyline of each show, but I have spoken to blind parents who cringe at the thought of Dora for the exact same reason I do. When your hearing has been trained to be ultra-sensitive, a voice like Dora’s, at the volume she uses coupled with the stilted, over-inflected way she speaks is like listening to a symphony of nails on a score of chalkboards. Insert migraine here.

Fact Six: If you know your child, you will know when they are rolling their eyes at you.

Yes, my Treasures, this is possible. It all boils down to knowing your child. I know my Rosie, and so when I ask her to do something she doesn’t want to do and I receive a silence laden with belligerence or a tsk sound accompanied by an exasperated huff, I know those eyes are rolling heavenward. I also know she’s giving me a dirty look, but I’ll just say that generally goes hand in hand with the eye roll.

I tell her, “Fix that angry face,” and she’s always baffled I’m able to call her out on it. Baby girl, #MommyPowers.

Fact 7: Just because you’re a blind parent doesn’t mean young children will forego leaving obstacles in your path.

While I do believe growing up with a blind parent gives children a unique perspective on disability and capability, children will be children. Awareness and compassion don’t always extend to mindfulness. If you think that because she knows I’m blind, Rosie doesn’t leave an obstacle course in my path every day, you’d sadly be mistaken. Children of blind parents do not develop superpowers of organization. It’s just as much a learned behavior, for them as it is for children of sighted parents.

Fact 8: Being a blind parent doesn’t mean your children stop trying to show you their drawings.

Rosie is a little artist. She has an innate talent for drawing, painting, doing my nails, applying my makeup, ETC. (I don’t ask her to do the latter two; she begs to.) If it involves an artistic component, she’ll own it.

She knows I can’t see, but she still takes great joy in showing me her drawings. She’ll describe them to me, and often I’ll call Aira for an adult description as well. Being blind does not stop me from participating in the joy my daughter takes in her artwork. For those blind parents who cannot squash Aira into their budget, Be My Eyes is another great option.

Fact 9: My daughter can use my iPhone just as well with Voiceover on as she can with it off.

I’ve never tested Rosie to see if she can understand my phone or my computer with her eyes closed, but when it comes to navigating my iPhone, it didn’t take her long to adapt to using it with Voiceover on. It frustrated her in the beginning, but once I taught her how to double tap the option she wanted, she took to it like a pro.

I will turn it off sometimes, when a game she wants to play simply won’t work with it on. But for the most part, if she’s touching my phone, I want to be able to hear what she’s doing, especially if watching Netflix is what she’s using it for. She knows there’s a difference in how the touch screen must be approached with Voiceover on and with it off and adapts seamlessly.

Fact Ten: Some blind parents will only win a genuine game of hide and seek by cheating and making their child giggle.

All right, so I know some of you blind parents probably don’t do this, and in a small apartment, there aren’t all that many hiding spots to use, so I generally know where Rosie’s stashed herself. But put us in a family member’s house and start a game of hide and seek and if I don’t find ways to make that child giggle, Treasures, I am not finding her. She’s very good at standing perfectly, silently still. I know this, and because I don’t want her to develop a knack for hiding from me in a way that uses my lack of vision against me, I turn the entire game into a massive gigglefest.

That wraps it up for today! I hope you all enjoyed!

Remember, if you have any questions or requests for future posts / podcasts / videos, please feel free to tell me either by using this site’s contact form, by sending me an email at, or by mentioning me on Twitter with the hashtag #TalkAboutItRena.

If you read many blogs from different blogging platforms on Bloglovin, please feel free to add mine as well!

Until next time, my \Treasures, I bid you a fond adieu.

The Top Ten Questions I Always Receive As A Blind Parent

Sirena cuddles baby Rose in her arms. Rosie wears a blue sweatsuit while Sirena is clothed in a pink blouse.

Before diving into today’s post, I wanted to update you beautiful Treasures on how my journey to reach as many of you as possible is going. Right now, my goal is to establish not only this site and blog, but a podcast and Youtube channel as well.

I purchased a lapel microphone from Amazon in hopes that it would heighten the audio quality of on-the-go podcasts and videos, but it turned out to be a flop with my iPhone 6S. I’ll be upgrading my phone, so when my XR arrives, I’ll give it another try before deciding whether to exchange it for another brand. Currently, when I use the microphone to record, there is a persistent buzzing that completely ruins the audio quality of the recording.

My ultimate goal is to purchase an actual camera for filming my Youtube videos, but for now, I’ll need to be content with my iPhone XR, because a good camera is just not in the budget. I’m also on the hunt for video and channel editors in order to make my Youtube channel as visually appealing as possible. I should honestly be hiring a WordPress designer as well to give this site a serious makeover.

I do have a Facebook page for those who may be interested in following me there and of course, I have a Twitter account. I do also have an Instagram account. There isn’t anything up there yet, as I’m going to need visual assistance with it and with the busy week I’ve had, there hasn’t been any time to sit down with Aira and play with it.

So, that’s where everything stands currently. For those of you waiting for the podcast and the Youtube channel, I promise, they will be here. It’s just taking far longer than I’d anticipated for equipment issues to be sorted out / editors to be found.

And now, on to today’s post, because it is a situation, I find myself in quite often.

The Top Ten Questions I Always Receive As A Blind Parent

Parenting is hard. Every mother and father know this. When blindness is added to the equation, floods of questions arise from sighted individuals. For many of them, it’s impossible for them to wrap their minds around the fact that while being a blind parent presents its share of challenges, it really isn’t the constant, horrific struggle they believe it to be. Today, I will share and answer (in no particular order) the top ten questions I always receive as a blind parent.

10. Is your daughter your eyes?

Not at all. My daughter is my child. I didn’t want to have her in order to have a set of working eyes at my side 24/7. She isn’t my guide, and she isn’t my caregiver. She is a typical little girl who is allowed and encouraged to play with her toys, to enjoy her artistic streak with markers, crayons and paint and to just be a little girl.

Now, there are times when I may drop something, and if she’s nearby, I’ll ask her if she can point out the object I dropped if I can’t find it on my own. (That, too, isn’t as difficult as it’s made out to be, and I’ll do a future blog / podcast / video on it.) Sometimes she sees me performing a task and asks if she can help, but if she’s busy doing her own thing, I never tear her away from it to serve as my eyes. She doesn’t guide me in unfamiliar environments. She doesn’t help me match outfits, even her own. She doesn’t help me cook meals or let me know if my makeup is applied well. With the Aira service, the Be My Eyes and The Seeing Ai apps coupled with the other tools in my toolbox, I don’t, and won’t, place my visual needs upon the shoulders of my five-year old. She is just a child, and I want her to enjoy being one.

9. Is your daughter embarrassed by you due to your blindness?

Not yet! Hahaha! It’s possible that during her teenage years when thinking your mother is cool is akin to social suicide, she may be embarrassed by it, but right now, no. She’s actually quite proud of it. She tells all her friends, loves showing off my cane and how I use it (despite my countless reprimands not to play with it, of course) and to her, it is just normal.

She knows my eyes don’t work like the eyes of most other mommies do. She knows I’m different, and in her youthful innocence, acceptance and understanding, she embraces me for it. It’s a beautiful, touching and humbling experience, and I love her even more for her simple pride in my uniqueness.

8. How do you know if your daughter needs a bath if you can’t see whether she’s dirty?

Rosie has designated bath days during the week. She bathes every other day unless she’s gotten sweaty during an extracurricular activity or from merely running around at school. She’s five, so if she’s been playing extra hard, she doesn’t smell like her namesake flower. I can also feel the dirt on her skin if she has embarked upon an adventure through a mud puddle on the playground. Alas, gone are the days of sweet scented, impervious-to-dirt baby skin!

7. How do you pick out your daughter’s clothes if you can’t see them?

I’ll do a Youtube video and a podcast on this specific topic when those are up and running, but in short, I’ve invented my own system because most of the typical methods blindies use weren’t detailed enough for me. Using plastic braille paper, I braille out clothing tags with the color of the clothing article, the design and any distinguishing, interesting or pertinent information about the piece I want to make note of on it. I then use a single hole punch to poke a hole into the edge of the paper after cutting it to size and use a safety pin to affix the tag to the top, dress or bottom that needs the description.

I have had tags rip in the wash, so if I’m able, depending on the garment, I’ll fold the tag over before cutting it to size in order to make it more durable. I also try not to overload the machine, and when I dry her clothes, I don’t dry on high heat or I am pretty sure relentless exposure to it would melt the plastic paper. I have used polycarbonate (I think they were) x-ray film sheets in the past, but they were given to me by a rehabilitation instructor and are way too expensive for me to purchase on my own.

It’s not a perfect system, but it works, so I’ll keep it! In the past, I have used braille color tags on Rose’s clothing, but I found that not only did I tend to run out of tags too often, but I wanted to know more about the article of clothing than just its color.

And, of course, if I lose tags in the wash, there is always Be My Eyes or Aira for identifying the article, so I know which one it is. I can then consult the document on my computer for the tag information I wrote up for it and re-braille said tag. Some articles I can identify by feel as well.

6. How did you change your daughter’s diapers when she was a baby if you couldn’t see what you were doing?

Changing a diaper as a blind parent really isn’t all that difficult. Pee was simpler than poop, obviously, so I’ll just focus on poop. Yay! Everyone’s favorite topic!

It was always easy to tell when Rosie pooped, even before she was eating solid foods. For those who don’t know, breast milk baby poop doesn’t stink nearly as much as baby food poop does. I’ve heard formula poop isn’t all that pleasant, but Rosie drank formula sparingly, so I couldn’t tell you one way or the other.

Anyway, the reason I tell you that is because I didn’t just smell it and go, “Oh, Rosie needs a diaper change.” The diaper got heavy, and it got squishy. Pee diapers will do that too, but not in the same area.

Once she was on the changing table, I would open the diaper and lift Rosie out of it by locking my hand around her ankles as I had been taught and gently maneuvering her. I would have a baby wipe all ready, and I would start in the center, wiping all the poop and pee from that area first before swiftly swapping out the old diaper for the new. That way, any yuck that may have dripped (sorry guys, I know this is gross) would land in the old diaper and not the new one.

Once the old diaper was out of the way, I’d take a new wipe and methodically clean each cheek, then I would feel with my fingers over her bottom to ensure everything was clean. I know to some that’ll seem gross, but she’s my child. It wasn’t a big deal for me. That’s why they invented hand soap. (Okay, so it’s probably not, but you catch my drift.)

So, yeah! That’s how I did it. A lot of it was having a wiping method coupled with just feeling around and ensuring all the pertinent areas were clean to avoid rash and infection. Now, she did still get the occasional diaper rash, but guys, all babies do. I was told by her pediatrician at the time that he saw more rashes on the babies of sighted parents, so, thumbs up to the thoroughness of blindies needing to touch everything. It works.

5. How do you feed your daughter if you can’t see?

Rosie’s five now, so I don’t have to feed her all that often. If she’s being picky and clingy and I need to spoon the last few forkfuls into her mouth, I use the same method I used when she was eating baby food.

I sit in a chair perpendicular to her. After washing my hands thoroughly, I hold the fork or spoon at its base. (This wasn’t necessary when she was an infant, as her spoon was a lot smaller then.) Holding the utensil by the base of the stem gives me more control and ensures I don’t poke her in the eye with the thing.

After loading food onto the fork or spoon (which is simple to do by feeling about with the fork or spoon itself or by using a second utensil on nearly empty plates), I reach for Rosie’s face and find her cheek and jaw with my fingers. Keeping my hand there, I use those reference points to know which way she’s looking and where I need to guide the utensil. It’s very simple.

4. How do you help your daughter with homework if it’s not written in those bumpy dots?

Those bumpy dots are called braille, my Treasures.

I use Aira for this task on the days when Rosie gets homework. A lot of her current homework is merely reading a book her teacher sends home. She memorizes most of these books, but if she finds herself stumped on a word, I have her read me the letters and we sound it out together. She always points to the words as she reads them, so if I am using Aira (though I tend not to for these assignments), they can easily follow along. For words involving color coded word cutouts, Aira is a godsend.

There are days when her father helps her. I never ask him to, but sometimes he just seems to enjoy it. (I’m sure he also does it to assist me if the task is overtly visual, but we don’t see him every day, so that isn’t a failsafe I rely on.)

If Aira ever moves beyond needing us blindies once it’s no longer a startup and becomes a huge moneymaker (many blindness aimed services sadly succumb to this), I will rely more heavily on what I already do with Rosie’s teacher, which is to inquire after the homework assignment for that day. This isn’t entirely necessary right now, but as the homework becomes more and more complicated, communication with teachers is going to become more and more crucial. I do believe Rose is going to receive a ChromeBook next year though, so it’s possible that by the time homework becomes too complicated for communication alone to handle, I’ll be able to use ChromeVox to read the assignments for myself.

3. Can you take your daughter to the park if you can’t see what she’s doing?

I can! As a toddler, it was easy because I was with her every step of the way. Now that she’s older and more independent, I had to come up with another method that wouldn’t embarrass her or treat her like a trained puppy in the way using a whistle to keep in contact with her might.

We use walkie talkies. I have one and Rosie has one. We keep them on the same channel, and while we’re at the park, I periodically check in on her through the walkie. Her walkie talkie is one of the objects she loves most in the world, so I’ve never had an issue with her responding when I request a check in. I will periodically ask her to come give me a hug just so I know she’s still close by, and at times I will use Aira to check in on her as well. And to snap pictures of her because I am obsessed with Aira-taken photos, but that right there deserves a post all its own.

2. How do you take care of your daughter if she falls and gets hurt?

This doesn’t happen as much as you might think. Honestly, I’m surprised at how much Rose just doesn’t skin her knees. She’s still young though, and it’s likely to become more of an issue once she begins riding a bike more regularly.

I would use Aira in this instance for visual feedback, but for a skinned knee, the key is meticulously washed hands, calm and gentle speech and softly feeling my way through the task. The first step of this is to find the edges of the wound in order to gage its size.

If there’s blood, the next step is to stem that flow. I use gauze pads for that, as I think they’re gentler on a wound than paper towels. I’ve never had to deal with a this-needs-stitches deep wound, but I think the process would be a whole lot different if the blood just refused to stop. You know, something along the lines of: step 1. Panic inwardly. Step 2. Rush Rose to urgent care. Step 3: Panic inwardly.

All right, so, once the tide of blood has been stemmed, the next step for me is to flush the wound. Because I can’t see whether dirt, gravel, sand, etc. has settled into it, it’s important to me to ensure that if it has, it’s been removed. If the wound is on her knee, I’ll have Rosie sit on the edge of the bathtub with her feet in said tub. I’ll then take a squeeze bottle of warm water and gently empty it, squeeze by squeeze, over and around the wound several times. I probably overdue it, but I’d rather be thorough than sorry. After this part, of course, more gauze comes out to gently dab the area dry.

Next is to disinfect the wound. No child likes this, because it often involves a chemical that stings, be it hydrogen peroxide or, in extreme cases of please-don’t-hate-me, alcohol pads. (Hey, I had to use an alcohol pad on my finger a few weeks ago and I hated me! That stuff hurts!)

Once the wound has been stemmed, flushed and disinfected, it’s time for every child’s favorite part, the plaster! Rosie’s older now, so she likes to put her plasters on herself, but were she younger, I’d be able to do it myself simply because I’d have just spent five minutes working within the immediate vicinity of the wound, so I’d know exactly where it was.

That’s how I do it. Ask me how I’d handle a broken bone, and I can honestly say I would probably just panic inwardly and rush her to urgent care. And cry. I know there are ways to temporarily set broken bones with makeshift splints, but as of the writing of this post, I have no idea how to do that and I’d never use a broken limb as a guinea pig.

1. Did the hospital call Child Protective Services on you when you had your daughter?

No. I was so lucky. I know this happens to many blind parents, but I had a beautiful birth experience. I visited the hospital beforehand, introduced myself, chatted with the nurses, doctors, even the midwives and let them see me as a person first. My entire team was gunning for my success from the start. I know they watched me to ensure I could competently care for Rosie, but I’d done so much research, it was all a breeze, honestly. I adored them, and in turn, they touched my heart by letting me know how well I was doing. It was a frightening time, and having their support, their reassurance and their praise meant the world to me and really boosted my confidence as a new mother.

So, there you have it, my Treasures! The top ten questions I always receive as a blind parent. There are loads more I don’t always get, and I’ll probably do another post on it one day, but these are query guarantees whenever someone discovers I’m a mother. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this and that it teaches you something about how blind parents kick tush!

Remember, if you have any questions for me or if you’d like to see me write about something, don’t hesitate to contact me through this site’s contact form, by emailing me at or by Tweeting to me with the hashtag #TalkAboutItRena.

I’ve also signed up with Bloglovin, because the more readers I have, the more people I can reach, educate and help. As you know, that’s so much of what this journey is about for me, so if you’d like to support me there as well, I would definitely not say no!

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Until next time, my Treasures, I bid you a fond adieu!

Store Links

I purchase my plastic braille paper from Future Aids. I’m not affiliated with them, nor am I being paid to promote them. I just like them. Their turn around time after an order is placed and their shipping time can oft times leave something to be desired, but they are in Canada and I’m in the US, so I know that, coupled with the fact that they ship free matter for the blind, is what adds to the arrival time. Still, you should all totally check them out, because they are great, they have awesome products and their prices are cheaper than anywhere else I’ve shopped.

The Top Ten Reasons I Am An Aspiring Motivational Speaker

Ten golden stars have been set upon a royal blue background. A large central star dominates, with nine smaller stars angled around it, four in the corners of the image and five nestled between the points of the main star.

“What inspires you?”

“Why do you want to do what you do?”

“What is your ultimate goal in becoming a motivational speaker?”

“Are you doing this because you’re blind?”

Within the past few weeks, I have gotten each of these questions at least twice. They inspired me to write a post about my reasons for choosing this path, hopefully addressing some of the curiosity surrounding it in the process. So, without further ado, I give you…

The Top Ten Reasons I Am An Aspiring Motivational Speaker

I have tried to list these in order of what I feel most passionate about, and that was really hard, because I feel equally passionate about everything below. Still, there are the little things, so I chose to put those at the end of the list here. They are fun, they are important, but they are not really life changing to anyone save me.

10. I would love to travel.

I would love to visit more of the fifty states. I would love to visit more countries. If I could both travel and work as a motivational speaker, I swear, I think I would cry. The entire experience would be so breathtaking and enriching for me. I love learning about new places, new cultures, new ways of life. To travel would be to learn, and to learn is to grow, and I am all for that. Besides, it would be fun! I mean, think of the selfie opportunities alone!

9. I love to talk.

I laugh as I type it, but let’s keep it real. If a motivational speaker did not love talking, that career would really blow. I love talking. I love explaining my thoughts to people. I love expounding upon those thoughts. I love sharing what I have learned and gone through in my life. I love encouraging people and making them think. To build a career out of doing that would be an utter dream come true.

8. I would get to meet so many amazing people.

As a motivational speaker, I would, ideally, be traveling a lot, either within my community, within my country, or possibly even to other countries. I know I would meet so many incredible people who would touch my life in such amazing ways. I might get to meet blog readers, podcast listeners and Youtube viewers. I might get to shake hands with or hug the people my words have touched. I would get to learn from others in this field. I would get to work for and alongside some truly remarkable individuals. The prospect alone, while rather distant right now, is so incredibly exciting.

7. I want my daughter to see that dreams, even lofty ones, are possible.

My child is my world, and in the world we all live in, dreams are often seen as unattainable things. Society portrays a dream as a bar too high for us ever to grasp, and so individuals tend to settle for whatever will bring them close to that dream without ever quite making it there. In many instances, there is little choice. But when there is a choice, I want to show my little girl that it matters. Choice matters. Effort matters. Not every path is typical, but each one is beautiful, and each one can ascend to a dream so long as we keep walking it.

6. I want to be heard.

As a blind individual, I have been told more than once that society might not be perfect, but that I should be grateful for what I have. What those people don’t realize is that I am so grateful for all I have, but that does not mean I will not still push for equality.

I want the world to look my way. I want it to listen, and not just about blindness. I want to share my story, comprised of so much growth, most of it not blindness-related at all. Hearken, world, because I am one of the voices who speaks for many. To hear me is to hear all of us.

5. I want to help blind individuals rise above the limited expectations society has placed upon us.

As a blind individual, when I hear the words “you can’t”, my kneejerk reaction is to respond with, “watch me.”

I am a blind woman in a sighted world. By the very nature of that truth, I am an outcast. I am an outcast because this world was not built for me or any of my blind peers. From the start, we are told we should not, or we cannot, or we are not. The world does not try to boost us up. It seeks to build walls around what we can do. It tries to place labels upon what we should be. It seeks to dictate how we are seen.

For every blind individual out there who has heard the words “you can’t”, I want to break down a barrier. I want to rise above the limitation’s society seeks to place upon us. Too many believe we simply should not matter because our blindness does not affect them. We are a minority, and they are oft times deaf to our voices. I want to be one of the voices that refuses to be silenced or ignored. We may have visual limitations, but we, as people, are limitless.

4. I want to bring people together.

I love connecting with people. I find a deep fulfillment in allowing them to glimpse my world, because it makes me feel closer to them in the time I have with them. In a world filled with its share of fractured moments, I want to be someone who can bring listeners together. I know that there are times when a sense of belonging, even for a few moments, can carry the strength to eradicate months of crushing loneliness. If my words can give people the courage to face another day, then I will never stop trying to send those words as far as they can go.

3. I have a deep thirst for enriching experiences that will further my personal growth.

I seek to draw the growth from every experience I find myself in. At such an early step down this career path, standing up to speak to even fifty people would be so incredibly profound, the thought alone is rather like gazing up at the sky and daydreaming about walking on a cloud. Each step I take toward that cloud is an experience I can learn from. The growth that shapes me, the lessons I learn and the struggles I survive are all a part of my story. I am dedicating my life to sharing that story, which means every moment of every task becomes a moment that enriches my life. I know my growth can enrich the lives of others, and that knowledge will always keep me thirsty to better myself as a person. For me, for you, for us as a community of equals.

2. I want my listeners to know someone hears their call.

Through the darkest moments of my life, through abuse, assault, shunning, to losing a parent at thirteen, depression, self-harm and the suicidal years that followed, there was not a single soul to turn to. I had no one to say to me, “I have been there, and I understand. You will rise above this, for you are beautiful, and you are strong.”

When you are clawing your way through darkness’s like the ones I have survived, sometimes, the thing you need most is merely to know you are not alone. For the young, the fully grown, the elderly, I want to be that rock they can lean on when there is no one else to bear that weight, because I know from experience how much it really does matter.

1. I want to educate the world about blindness.

What it is, what it is not, how to interact appropriately with a blind individual, how we function from day to day in areas that may utterly perplex many, etc. This walks together with reason five, but they are not synonymous, because in this instance, I do not speak of proving we are are worthy of being seen and heard. In this instance, I speak of informing the uninformed and the misinformed about the day to day. The how tos, the dos and don’ts, and all that goes along with educating those who want to learn but have had little to no opportunities to ask.

I want to remove the blinders from the eyes of those who may not even be aware they are wearing any, and if I can make a difference in a single mind with one of my blog posts, podcasts, Videos or talks, then this seedling of a career has already been a glowing success.

And there you have it, my Treasures. The top ten reasons I am an aspiring motivational speaker. Thank you so much for reading through this post. It was a lot of fun to write, and it means so much to me that you were interested enough to spend your time here. If you have any questions for me, or if there is something you would like me to write about, please feel free to contact me, either by using this site’s contact form, by sending me a mention on Twitter with the hashtag #TalkAboutItRena or by emailing me at

Until next time, my Treasures, I bid you a fond adieu.